Peter woke with a start. His hand instinctively reached across the bed, but the sheets beside him were cold. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as memories of the night before crept into his head, seeing Selena's phone, reading her messages with Jack. His heart still hadn't settled from that blow. That name. That very Jack. His best friend Brian's shadow… and now maybe something more to his wife?
He swung his legs out of bed and rushed downstairs, heart pounding as if she'd vanish the moment he blinked. But there she was. Selena stood at the stove, barefoot in a simple tank and shorts, flipping eggs onto two plates. Her hair was pulled into a loose bun, strands falling out at the sides. Like every other morning, except today… Nothing felt the same.
She turned slightly when she heard him, her expression unreadable. "Good morning," she said calmly.
Peter swallowed. "I thought you already left."
Selena looked at him, then back to the eggs. "No. But I will be this afternoon. Go eat. I'm making your favorite."
He watched her for a moment longer, unsure of how to approach what was building inside him. Eventually, he sat down, the plate she handed him steaming with toast, eggs, and grilled tomato.
They ate in silence for a few minutes. Selena's face was stoic. She barely looked at him.
Peter cleared his throat. "I've been thinking… I've changed my mind."
Selena didn't look up. "About?"
"The open marriage."
That made her pause. She set down her fork and looked up at him, eyes narrowing. "Excuse me?"
Peter leaned forward. "I don't want it anymore. It was a mistake. I thought I knew what I wanted, but I didn't. I don't want to share you."
Selena laughed, a short, bitter sound. "Unbelievable," she muttered. "Do you hear yourself? You're the one who proposed it, Peter."
"I know. I know, and I was wrong."
"You said you needed this. You said we were stuck. That sleeping with someone else would help you clear your head." She leaned back in her chair, her jaw tightening. "And now, when I finally start to breathe again, you want to pull it all back?"
"I never should've said those things."
"What about Nanny?" she shot at him. "Your not-so-subtle glances. The late nights. The private messages I 'wasn't supposed to worry about.'" Her voice rose with each word. "Was she just some mental experiment for you?"
Peter shook his head quickly. "No. No, Selena. She doesn't matter. I don't even know what I was chasing with her. It was just… a distraction. Nothing real. I swear to you."
She blinked, stunned for a moment. Then she looked away, scoffing. "You don't know what you want, Peter. That's the problem."
"I know now," he said softly. "I know I want us."
Selena stood from her seat abruptly and walked over to the counter, needing the distance. Her arms crossed tightly around her chest, "You had months to want us. You had years. And when I cried in front of you after your damn proposal, you didn't flinch. You left me to rot in our bathroom for hours."
"I was wrong. I see that now."
"Oh, now you see?" she snapped, turning around to face him fully.
Peter slammed his hands down on the table, frustration finally breaking through. "This change… It's because of Jack, isn't it?"
Selena's face froze.
"That's why you're so sure now," he continued, voice rising. "Because you already have someone waiting. You spent the night with him, didn't you?"
Selena stared at him, chest heaving slightly. "You don't get to ask that."
"Why not?"
"Because you don't care," she snapped. "You said that yourself. You said love wasn't the point. That sex didn't mean anything. So what does it matter who I was with?"
Peter stood up, pushing his chair back. "It matters because I care now! I didn't think I would, but I do. I care that it was Jack. Jack fucking Brooks? Your brother's fucking best friend? That fucking nepo baby?"
Selena's voice was cold and even. "You didn't care when you laid out that twisted proposal. You didn't care what it would do to me. You just wanted to experiment. And now, when I stop crying and actually move on, now it a problem?"
"This isn't moving on, Selena. It's running into the arms of the first man who told you you're pretty."
She slapped the counter. "Don't you dare reduce this to that."
Peter pointed at her, his hand trembling. "You didn't even give this a chance. You just—"
"I gave you ten years, Peter! And the moment things got hard, you started fantasizing about other people instead of fighting for me." She took a shaky breath, voice breaking just slightly. "I begged you to talk to me. I begged you to fix things. And you chose Nanny and a half-baked proposal."
Peter was quiet for a moment. The only sound was the hum of the refrigerator.
Then, softer now, he asked, "So you're really going to throw us away? For him?"
Selena's voice cracked as she whispered, "You threw us away long before he ever touched me."
Peter looked down, jaw clenched. He had no answer. No defense. The shame washed over him, thick and inescapable.
She turned her back on him, her hands bracing the counter.
"I'll be gone by noon," she said, voice quieter now. "I don't know where this is going, Peter. But I need air. And space. Something you've already been living in. Let me have that, too."
Peter didn't move. He didn't say a word.
And for the first time in years, they didn't feel like husband and wife anymore. They felt like strangers, broken in the silence they both created.